It is now Friday morning and I have just had my coffee and began reading this week’s edition of The Jewish Link. I came across the letter on the editorial page from ‘Name Withheld Upon Request,’ (“My Plea to the Jewish Community,” June 16, 2016), that I was riveted by. For those of you who didn’t read it, it is the letter of a bright, accomplished young woman who had been in treatment for six months for an eating disorder during her early college years and for three months for anxiety and depression post college. And then she writes that she entered the dating turf of Orthodox Jews. Though in treatment she was empowered to be open and honest about her struggles, upon her return home, “mentor after mentor, friend after friend, and family member after family member” encouraged her to keep her experiences a secret. If not, how would she get a job? How would she get a shidduch? When she began the dating process, she revealed her mental health issues when she felt halachically obligated to and was comfortable doing so. Each prospect said they would get through it and that everything would be okay. The young man’s parents were told and time after time they forced the couple to break up. Then a serious marriage prospect emerged, a person who had known her since age 19 and had always been a supportive friend throughout her struggles. They grew very close and after several months, he told his parents of their plans to get married. They were very excited, but when he told them about her struggles, and they asked if she was taking any medication, they went beserk and the match quickly ended.
My wife and I have always believed in being honest with people. After all, everyone has struggles of some sort and some people have terrible struggles—but the only way to go through life and live well is to live it with integrity and openness. That is true with regard to everything. As you know, when our third daughter was 7 to 8 months old, we found out that there was something wrong with her. Within a short time we were informed that she had cerebral palsy. While it was, of course, a terrible blow, it didn’t take too long for us to go on making her and our life the best it could be. At the end of the Modim prayer during the repetition of the shmoneh esreh, we thank God for inspiring us to thank Him! There is nothing greater than a life lived, filled with gratitude, despite difficulties, losses and struggles. It is all part of a life that is bigger and much more mysterious than anyone can possibly begin to fathom.
From time immemorial, people have dealt with scary things by hiding from them or not talking about them. It has now reached a point where many people are comfortable with someone with special needs—especially in the frum world with countless wonderful camps, social settings, job training etc. But there remain a lot of individuals who still have trouble dealing with such things. We know of at least one couple who have a child with special needs who had the child “put away” after birth and today, many years later, virtually none of their friends, neighbors or acquaintances know that the couple has another child. On the rare occasion that we bump into them, they remind us again not to tell anyone.
A number of years ago a chassidishe couple came to consult with me. The wife continues to be fraught with guilt over their going along with the rebbe’s insistence that they place their child in a residence far away. On another occasion we were told that a troubled, but warm congregant had died. It came out shortly after that the man had committed suicide. Why is that a shanda?? A terrible tragedy, yes—but something so shameful that people have to whisper about rumors? Not so long ago people couldn’t say the word cancer. They would either simply not tell anyone (often even their own children), or use some euphemism like yene machla. Today, thank God, it is more open and spoken about and dealt with. But we still have so many problems with shidduchim issues. Anyone who has a hidden problem in their or their family’s past tries to keep it hidden—at least until well after the marriage, often with horrible consequences. Has no one ever heard of “kiddushei taus”? If there is a problem that is significant enough that someone definitely would have wanted to be told about it and might not have gone through with the marriage had they known—it is a kiddushei taus! And while no Rav to my knowledge would actually rule this way, it is an invalid marriage and no get is necessary because they were never married in the first place!
It was our daughter Malkie who listened to a girl in her Bais Yaakov class tell her that she would never get married because she had a handicapped sister. Malkie, all of 10 years old, responded “Anyone who doesn’t want to marry me because of Naama isn’t worth marrying anyway.”
And so to “name withheld”—anyone who doesn’t want to marry you because you have had problems that probably a majority of people have or have had, is most definitely not worth marrying. Even if it is just the parents who can’t put up with it, if the young man refuses to go ahead with it in spite of them, thank God you know about it now. Don’t give up and don’t be frightened—please God you will be blessed with a wonderful shidduch and a wonderful life.
By Rabbi Dr. Mordechai Glick
